Money Movers (1978) - full transcript

(FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING)

(WORKING DIAL)

(LOCK CLANGS)

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS)

(CHATTER OVER RADIO)

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS)

(BELL RINGING)

-...and the umpire's a cheat.
-Yeah.

-MAN: Morning, gents.
-That's it, thanks.

(LOCK BUZZES)

If I'm wanted, I'll be down
in the counting house.



You still think
I'm the sexiest beast
since Errol Flynn?

WOMAN: Who's Errol Flynn?

"Who's Errol Flynn?" Shit.

MAN 1: New batch
for the branches.
MAN 2: Over here, mate.

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS)

Yeah, 100 don't even
look like that down here.

-Thank you.
-(LAUGHING) Watch your hands.

(INTERCOM BUZZES)

-Yes?
-Conway.

(LOCK BUZZES)

All right, I think there's
a copy of that in here.

There's two of them
to fix, I think.

-G'day, fellas.
-G'day, Robbie.

-G'day, Robbie.
-You happy?



BOTH: Yeah.

(MURMURING INDISTINCTLY)

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS)

-DISPATCHER: Security check.
-Yup, we're onto it.

Righto.

-DISPATCHER: Security check.
-Yeah, clear, boss.

VH-2DA, Car 22 to base.

Come in, 22.

Listen, Eric, we're leaving
the Central Bank now.

Arrival should be schedule
minus five, okay?

Right.

Attention,
counting house dispatch,

convoy has left
the Central Bank
five minutes early.

First van should arrive
at 12:25 hours.

(HORN HONKING)

(INDISTINCT RADIO CHATTER)

(HORN HONKS)

(RADIO CHATTER CONTINUES)

(WHIRRING)

(LOCK BUZZES)

What's the intake?

-Only about six million.
-(MAN COUGHS)

Relax. Lionel Darcy reckons
the security here is tighter
than a fish's bum.

-See you.
-Yeah, right.

(INDISTINCT RADIO CHATTER)

Twenty-two to base.

Come in, 22.

Approaching counting house
now, base.

Roger, 22.

Help me out, Gloria, will you?

(BUZZES OPEN)

-(LOCK BUZZING)
-Hello.

Morning, ladies.

G'day, Cullen.

Don't let any bloke
see my machine guns.

-G'day.
-How are you?

(MAN COUGHING)

Okay, here's the first one.

Press the hatch button.

Jesus, five minutes early.

-That's a bit of a change
for you buggers.
-BRIAN: Yeah?

It's all right for you
fucking armchair drivers.

-Seen any bunny rabbits
lately, mate?
-Just the one.

Watch out, mate.

MAN: (ON RADIO)
Halfway through the bank run.
Location as usual.

DISPATCH: Yeah, righty-oh.

(STOPS ENGINE)

(INDISTINCT RADIO CHATTER)

Jesus, hot as
buggery in there,
I could do with a drink.

-Tell me something new.
-(BELL RINGING)

Thought you were
chatting up the barmaid
in this place.

Get in her purse, you reckon?

-Yeah, found out her husband's
been passing the bottle about.
-(LAUGHS)

(CHATTING INDISTINCTLY)

(RADIO CHATTER CONTINUES)

-Oh, g'day, Nacker.
-Hey.

You still pinching meat?

Come on, Dick,
the job's gotta have
a few perks.

A nice big leg
of lamb here, Dick.

Just the feel of it
will make any bugger randy.

(INDISTINCT RADIO CHATTER)

I'm getting a bit sick
of lamb, Nacker.
Haven't you got any steak?

I've got a nice sirloin from
a two-year-old Hereford.
Lovely.

You could've eaten
him out of the paddock.

Give me 10 minutes, mate.

I'm concerned,
Connor, concerned about
powder-puff penalties.

There's far too much
talk these days about
the rights of criminals, stop.

How about the rights
of security patrolman,
who are mugged after dark,

semi-colon, no make that
a question mark.

-(KNOCKING)
-Come in!

And what about
armored-car drivers...

Sorry to interrupt,
but I thought...

Yes, all right.
Thank you very much, Maureen.
Thank you.

(TAPE WHIRRING)

...security patrolman,
who are mugged after dark,

semi-colon, no make that
a question mark. Come in!

And what about the rights
armored-car drivers...

MAN: Did you hear
about the Irish astronauts,

-that decided to go to the sun
instead of the moon.
-No, I haven't.

Well, they decided to go
to the sun, you see,

and this bloke said,
"You can't go to the sun,
you'd just burn up."

-They said, "That's all right,
we'll go at night."
-(LAUGHING)

Inside! Quick! Quick!

-Okay, get inside!
-Get in quick!

Go on then! In the box!

Inside!

(GRUNTS)

(GRUNTS)

Enough!

(GRUNTS)

Hurry up now, guys.

-(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS)
-(LOCK BUZZES)

WOMAN: Hello, girls!

Come on, come on.

(STARTING ENGINE)

Hey, Dick! Hey, Dick!
I've got...

(TIRES SQUEALING)

Stay within the speed limits.

-Sure.
-Take your mask off!

Darcy's Control, Eric Jackson.

WOMAN: Service 10, Control.

MAN: (ON RADIO)
Service 10, go.

David, one of the vans
has been hit.

Tell Mr. Darcy,
he's on the firing range.

ERIC: Right.

(SIRENS WAILING)

(INDISTINCT RADIO CHATTER)

Get right back there.
Right back.

-Who is he, Sergeant?
-No idea, I'm afraid.

-Any witnesses?
-I don't think so.

This lot arrived
as they drove off.

They had a cream
Holden station wagon.
No one got the number.

See if Darcy's got a key
to this thing.

Your motto has to be
"eternal vigilance."

Constant suspicion.

That big bloke
at the factory entrance,
wasn't he there yesterday?

That gray car.

Where have I seen that before?

Ask yourself
these questions every...

(TIRES SCREECHING)

A hundred and fifty grand,
eh, Ben?

-Oh, 150 each!
Not bad for five minutes work.
-(LAUGHING)

-Ten, mate! Ten!
-Okay, ten!

-(GUNSHOT6)
-(SCREAMS)

Dino!

-(GUNSHOTS)
-(GRUNTING)

Yes, very good, Dino.

Clothes, passport,
first-class air ticket
to Tehran.

Here's some cash in US dollars
to go on with.

Your share of today is 40%.

Mr. Henderson said it'll be
forwarded to you in Iranian
rials, in about a week.

The cost of all this
stuff will be deducted
from your percentage.

Good businessman,
Mr. Henderson.

Yes, that's right.
Strictly a businessman.

Jesus, Dick Martin.

Give these fellas a hand.

Here you go.

Good. Give us a hand with it.
Come on.

Take it easy. Come on.

You get a look on him, Dick?

No. Not much of a look at all.

Will you get those
people back?

Will you get those
people back there?

The driver, as you can see,
there's quite a lot of blood
on his head, there.

Looks like they hit him.

(INDISTINCT SHOUTING)

CAMPBELL:
Patrol to 9, 1, 2, 3.
Location...

Thank you, Mrs. Campbell.

Gentlemen.

For what we are about to
receive, the Lord make
us truly thankful, Amen.

-Amen.
-Right. Do you know
what happens now?

Legal and United are going
to put our insurance
premiums up.

One more little robbery
like today's and we're going
to be out of business.

-Come on,
it's the lunch break.
-He's right, Mr. Darcy.

If the men are on the road
after 12:00, the unions
insist on a lunch break.

Then ram this robbery
down the union's throat.

After today's little farce,
they're gonna have
to make a deal.

Yeah, but what about this?

Oh, some kid
watching too much TV.

Check it out as much
as you can, will you?

And listen,
you remember that cashier
we had for 10 years?

Started shoving
$50 bills in his boot.

And that's not where
the lady cashiers
used to put them.

Jackson, that fellow
that got trussed up with
a leg of lamb today.

Dick Martin, you know him?

Only been with the
armored cars a few months,
but seemed okay.

Most of these old
ex-coppers aren't worth
feeding, frankly.

Listen, why don't we get some
of the younger blokes,
ex-Vietnam boys?

I don't know, sir,
the police take the view
they're trigger happy.

Another problem there too.

They, um, they wouldn't
pass the CPI test.

Huh? What the hell is that?

Oh, you've authorized it, sir.

The American system
I instituted.

You see, we grade them
one to five, on the basis
of 400 questions.

-Now grades one
and two are reject.
-Oh.

They're too intelligent,
they get bored of the job.

See, you got to fail
the entry exam to be
able to work here.

MAN: Yes.

Detective Sergeant Rose,
Hold-up Squad.

MAN: Look at the
video monitor please, sir.

It might be possible
to rob a van on the road
Detective Sergeant,

but this area is impregnable.

You reckon?
Call me Sammy.

The doors wouldn't be raised
for any unauthorized vehicle,

we're in radio contact
with all our vans.

Yeah, what if someone
stole one of those tin cans
and just drove it in here?

It wouldn't make
any difference.

It wouldn't be on the roster,
Mr. Ross.

Sammy.

And if it is not rostered,
it doesn't get in.

Yeah?

I always work
on the assumption though,

that any bloke that wants to
knock off a place like this
doesn't have to break in.

-He works here.
-(BUZZES)

This little lot would
tempt Jesus Christ.

-Crap.
-Maybe.

But what sort of
security man could afford
not to take it seriously.

This one.

I reckon you ought to check
out anyone that joined Darcy's
in the past couple of months.

My security
screening system is...

Oh, come on David.

Your bloody security system's
not worth a crumpet

if some bloke slips past
and does the place over.

I don't think I need you
to teach me my job,
Detective Sergeant Rose.

Where did you get him from?

Darcy dug him up somewhere.

He used to be over the
police force in Ulster,

or London, or Cornshire,
or somewhere, I don't know.

You certainly gave him
the shits.

Yeah.

All right, you got rid of him.
Now what?

-No fooling you, mate.
-Better believe it.

Couple of things I might be
able to follow up on that, uh,
on the job today.

Glad to hear it.

-This too.
-Hmm?

I know few people who
tell me things.

(FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING)

Might be a bit costly.

Oh...

Not real orthodox though.

We'll meet once a month
and exchange notes.

Jesus, you better be good.

Can I use your phone?

(PHONE RINGING)

Yes?

That detective again,
wants to know about
the Darcy job.

Tell him. Hmm.

We heard a rumor that
Tony Duggan and a man called
Ben Lancer were involved.

Darcy's have had
a note threatening
the counting house.

We have no knowledge of that.

A counting house, Ernest,
we should find out about that.

If someone's
planning to take it,
they might need our help.

There you are. You don't get
contacts like that hanging
around Sunday school.

See you in church.

(MAN COUGHING)

(DOOR OPENS)

Leave us alone, will you?
Security business.

-You know anything?
-(TURNS ON RADIO)

-Of course.
Someone's on to us.
-Oh, what?

Security's got a note
saying the counting house
is going off.

-Any names?
-No.

Well, what are you
worrying about?

Fuck me, it's probably
just some ratbags,
they get them all the time.

But what if there
is someone else?

I've been planning this job
for five years, five!

And I don't want it
fouled up by some half-wit
getting in before us.

Or any 18-year-old tart
who's been listening
to you talk in your sleep.

You're not the only one
that's been sitting around
for five years, you know.

By the time you're ready,

we'll be rushing into the
bloody counting house
in wheelchairs.

We go when I say,
could be another six months.

Gear's not ready and
I still haven't worked out
how to fix the van rosters.

Oh, Jesus Christ.

If you think it's such a
pushover, why don't you
ring Lionel Darcy

and ask him to drop the 20
million dollars around here,

save us a lot of travel!

What's this lot, Ed?

(SIGHS) Group of new recruits.

Security wants me to
run a field check.

(CHUCKLES)
They reckon one of this mob
might be planning it.

Anything in it?

I doubt it.

This bloke's a bit
of a weirdo, Leo Bassett.

*

(CHUCKLES)
Looks like he couldn't fight
his way out of a light fog.

What are you gonna
do about him?

Push him a bit.
See how he shapes up.

What if you reckon
he's planning something?

Tell security, and they
can get rid of him for us.

Hmm.
What if he comes up clean?

Still tell them
to keep an eye on him.
Better him than us.

Mmm-hmm.

-You know him?
-I've seen him round,
he's on night patrols.

Bugger comes to work in a Jag.

Apart from the fact that he
looks like a poofter,
what made you pick on him?

Look under interests.

Music, poetry?

-He is a poofter.
-Mmm-mmm, got the address.

Kathmandu Towers.
(CHUCKLES)

Bit flash.

-(INDISTINCT RADIO CHATTER)
-(DOG BARKING)

(CLANGING)

-See when I...
-(SCREAM)

You know what you do
in a situation like this?

You swing the stiff arm
around like this,
knock the gun aside,

then hit him
with the other fist.

-Didn't you read your
instruction manual.
-Yes, sir.

Security officers are to seal
gates and doors behind them.
Sealed means locked.

-Yeah, I'm sorry sir.
(STUTTERS)
-What else?

-Else?
-Else!

(STUTTERING)
What else did I do wrong?

You called me "sir"
and you don't even
know who the hell I am.

I could have killed
senior supervisor Eric Jackson

ten minutes ago
and taken his uniform.

-Yes, I'm sorry.
-Well?

Well, may I see
your identification please.

Better.

(PANTING)

-What's your mother's
middle name?
-Why?

-Quick, quick!
-(INDISTINCT SHOUTING)

Like the job, Leo?

Oh, it's okay.
Bit early to tell.

Pay's a bit lousy.

Listen, you slave your guts
out for five years, they
make you a supervisor.

Yeah.

You like driving Leo?

-I hear you've got a Jag.
-Yes.

-Well, I've seen you drive.
-Have you?

I thought I'd been forgotten,
where was that?

Oh, at the Liverpool Raceway.

-I was there the night that
Peter Romano got killed.
-Peter? Oh, yeah.

I told him it was dodgy,
cutting in on me
on the top corner.

(BEEPS)

Control to Car 16.

-Car 16.
-Attend your code 180.

I have a break at this time.

Roger.

Here's your big chance, Leo.

Well, it's probably just
another false alarm, I hope.

-For Christ's sake!
-MAN: Will you get
this fucking thing started!

(ENGINE CRANKING)

ERIC: There they are.

(HORN HONKS)

LEO: Shit!

(INDISTINCT SHOUTING)

(ALARM RINGING)

(GRUNTING)

I'm out of here, fuck this!

You bastard!

(POLICE SIREN WAILING)

I measure our success
by a low profile.

And what do you do, huh?

You get yourself
on the front page.

Well, what have you
got to say for yourself.

It's a hell of an old photo.

Why couldn't you wait
for the police, huh?

You're supposed to
protect property,
not destroy it.

If I had of waited, sir,
those kids would
have got away.

Besides, David asked me
to check out a new recruit.
Leo Bassett.

That's right, Mr. Darcy,
over the counting house note.

Bassett? What's supposed
to be wrong with him?

Oh, he's a sort of
intellectual type, sir.

Keeps to himself,
but I don't think he's
as naive as he makes out.

You're a good
security man, Jackson.

But you over-played
your hand last night.

I don't favor the
James Bond tactics.

(SIGHS)

Oh, take a couple
of weeks off until
this thing blows over.

Don't talk to the media!

You were 24 years
with the police force.

You were awarded
commendation for bravery

and you were the captain
of the police pistol team.

Why were you dismissed?

I resigned.
It's all in the file.

Come on, Mr. Martin.

It was your career
and career policemen
do not resign.

Well, the branch had SP
blokes in a whole lot of pubs
paying them behind the door.

Bribes?

You were a policeman,
Mr. Griffiths, you know
how the system works.

Well, they sent me
around one Saturday
to check one out.

Someone had tipped off
Internal Affairs.

As soon as this bookie
came up to me
and gave me the envelope,

they had me on toast.

And you had been
sharing in the bribes
from the bookmakers?

Well, I guess the odd
50 bucks came my way.

Sort of an
unofficial license.

Very public spirited.

But why did your colleagues
inform on you?

Well, it wasn't all of them.
Just one.

He was planning a couple
of little deals I wouldn't go
along with, so he set me up.

And you mentioned
all this at the enquiry.

Nah, no point.

I just drifted into
the security business,
like a lot of rejects.

Discipline is the name
of the game, Bobby.

Some of our men get around
with their shirts hanging out,
buttons undone.

In fact they're getting so
damned careless...

-Okay, okay.
-...they forget to
zip up their flies.

You've got Buckley's
chance of getting all this
passed by the union.

You tell them, if there is
another robbery around here

they'll all finish up
bouncing drunks out of pubs.

What about Martin, Mr. Darcy?

Who the hell is Martin?
Thanks, John.

-The driver in that
leg of lamb job.
-(BUZZES)

You're in charge of security,
what do you suggest?

I think he should
be dismissed.

Who, Martin?

He failed to survey
the area properly and
his heroics were childish.

Look, Lionel,
Martin's all right.

I knew him when he was
with the division.

DAVID: I still say
he ought to go.

At least, he had a go
at those blokes.

And the final analysis,
we still need men.

Get rid of the other two,
and put him on
night patrol for a while.

He won't be the
first ex-cop that's had a
second chance at Darcy's.

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS)

(COMMENTATOR CHATTING ON PA)

(ENGINE REVVING)

How about that patrolman
you gave a ride through
the window?

Bassett? Huh!

Scared him to death.
He's harmless.

Yeah, well,
Lionel Darcy isn't.

They've got the wind up
over that van job.

There'll be that many
regulations,

you'll need a passport
and six keys to get
into the shithouse.

Can't you stop them
through the union?

Oh, some of it.

We're gonna
have to make a move.
It's not getting any easier.

(ENGINES REVVING)

Need cash, that's the problem.
Few things to buy.

I've got a couple of thousand.

Not enough, Ed.
I got some leave.
I'll sort it out.

-Good bye, darling.
-(DOG WHIMPERS)

Be a good boy.
Mummy won't be long.

Mrs. Hawkins is going
to feed you.

-Oh, Eric,
couldn't we take him?
-(STARTS ENGINE)

We will be back Thursday,
Mrs. Hawkins.

RADIO DJ: Time to take another
caller on the boogey line.
Hello, are you there?

Hello, are you there?
I know you're there,
I can hear you sneezing.

WOMAN: Hello.
DJ: Hello, who's that?

WOMAN: Judy here, Tony.
DJ: Hi, Judy...

(DUCKS QUACKING)

Eric, do you remember
before we were married,

that weekend we went up
to the beach house
that you borrowed?

Mummy found out about it,
was so shocked.

Yes, she wasn't
one of my greatest fans.

You didn't make
much of an effort.

She didn't understand
about racing cars and
all that sort of thing.

No, but that didn't
stop her nagging me
into giving it all up.

You used to think
it was worth it.

MAN: Leo Bassett!

Richard Martin.

O'Neil.

(CLOSES DOOR)

(STARTS ENGINE)

(DOG BARKING)

(THUNDER RUMBLING)

I've been waiting for you
for an hour.

-What?
-I work here.

I was on late shift
and I left my purse inside

and it's got my money
and my keys and everything.

-Can I see your Velva
permit card, miss?
-Ah, yes.

Sorry.

Oh, here it is.

-Mindel?
-Seagers.

Well, I'm sorry, Miss Seagers,
I still can't let you in.

I only patrol this factory,
I don't have the keys.

-Oh, could you give me a lift?
-No, not possible.

I'm sorry, it's the
patrol company rules...

Oh, go on.
It's only mile away.

Yeah, okay.

Well, I guess I'll be
by this way, at least
four times tonight, anyway.

Great job. You could just
go home and go to sleep
and nobody would ever know.

Yeah. Doesn't quite
work that way.

Well, some places
we have to punch in time...

(CLATTERING)

(WOMAN MOANING)

(MAN GRUNTING)

(OPENS DOOR)

-Hey!
-(SCREAMS)

-(INDISTINCT SHOUTING)
-Shut up!

-(GRUNTS)
-Open the safe.

There's no safe in here.

Touch that alarm
and I'll blow your head off.

(FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING)

(CLATTERING)

(GRUNTING)

I don't know what you're so
worried about.

You're only giving
me lift home.

Well, I've only been there
a little while, they're always
checking up on me.

How long have you been there?

-A month.
-Oh. Bloody thing.

-Is there a caretaker?
-(CHUCKLES) No, not here.

Have you got a hair pin
or a nail file in your bag?

(SIGHS)

Look, go to the flat
downstairs and see
if you can borrow their keys.

-Well, sometimes they work.
-Okay.

There isn't anybody...

You're a genius.
How did you do it?

Well, I just...

-What's your name?
-Leo Bassett.

Well, Leo.
Come in and have a drink.

Oh! No, thanks.
I've got to finish the rounds.
Maybe some other night.

Yeah. Look, call in.
I'm usually home after 6:00.

-Okay, I will.
-Bye, Leo.

-Thanks again.
-Bye. Okay.

(CHATTER ON POLICE RADIOS)

MAN: I'm sorry, sir.
I'm so sorry...

-Sorry, sir,
no one allowed inside.
-It's all right, mate.

-I'm from Darcy's.
-No. No one at all.

-Do you want to patrol
or be a taxi driver?
-(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS)

Sammy, tell this bloke,
for Christ's sake, who I am.

It's all right. It's the
sales man from Darcy's.

I suppose this girl
that Mr. Bassett escorted
does work here?

Miss Seagers?

Oh, yes, for a few weeks,
I've seen her around.

Somebody tell me something.

-Your base sent out
a supervisor.
-John Dolan.

After this bloke shot through
with a bit of crumpet,

someone hit Dolan
over the head.

Excuse me.

And tied these two up,
while they were...

-Working late.
-Yeah.

And did the safe, $50,000.

Well, where's Dolan?
Did you get a doctor?

It's a bit late for that.

-(SIRENS WAILING)
-(CAMERA CLICKING)

Jesus Christ.

The Lord's my shepherd,
I'll not want

* He makes me down to lie

* In pastures green,
He leadeth me... *

Police, now believe,
that the killer of patrol
man, John Dolan,

is or was an employee
of Darcy's Security Services.

As he actually had information
about payroll deliveries
to Velva Cosmetics.

Darcy's executives,
not surprisingly,
won't comment.

But my information is that...

* Shall surely follow me

* And in God's house
forevermore

* My dwelling place shall be

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS)

Okay, let's get Darcy
if we can, up this way.

-Hope you got what you need.
-Eh?

-The job.
-What do you mean?

-Dolan.
-Yeah.

It was an accident.

Yeah, when you're
in the shit up to here,

it doesn't matter
how you got there, does it?

Dick.

-How's it going?
-Oh, real good, Sammy.

Always wanted to
spend the nights
running around factories.

You still winning
a lot of money off horses
you didn't back?

I've told you before, Dick,
it wasn't me who set you
up in that pub. Geez!

-I always thought you were
the best bloke in the squad.
-Yeah.

You just couldn't
help yourself,
could you, Sammy?

Even when your mates
got in the way.

Leo Bassett,
It was one of your patrols
that John Dolan was covering.

What's your personal
reaction to his death?

Look, I don't wanna...
I have no comment.

Hang on. There's Darcy.

Well, looking
at the brighter side,

I did manage to sell that
randy manager $10,000
worth of security alarm.

Mr. Darcy, Stuart Littlemore,
National News.

Two killings, involving
your organization,
in the last few days.

Isn't it all these
uniforms and weapons,
breeding violence?

No, the violence
is already there.
We're hoping to combat it.

We're just a symptom
of the disease.
Not the cause. Excuse me.

(WHIRRING)

(DOG BARKING)

Hey.

-Eric Jackson?
-That's right.

Detective Sergeant Sammy Rose,
Hold-up Squad.

-Who's this?
-My brother, Brian.

-You're Darcy's too?
-Yeah, that's right.

With the armored vans.

-That's you.
-Yeah.

'Course, I remember,
Eric Jackson, who
would've thought of it.

-You were doing all right.
Why'd you get out?
-Got married.

Wife wasn't too keen
on someone bringing
him home in a bucket.

SAMMY: Yeah?

You wanna go back to it?

Drop out of that game
for a few years and
you're 1000 years old.

-What's this?
-It's gonna be a camper van.

Cost much, this sort of thing?

You reckon I knocked off
that cosmetic factory
to pay for it?

Maybe he can pay
some of the build it, then.
Stop getting me over.

SAMMY: Not really.

Where were you
last Tuesday night, Eric?

I went up to the mountains.
Had a few days off.

Senior supervisor,
you were in a position to tell
from the patrol reports,

-about that
manager staying late.
-Wasn't much of a secret.

Patrol blokes used to watch
them through the office door

till they had
the glass frosted.

That manager went through
secretaries like turds out of
a canary's ass. (CHUCKLES)

-Wife go with you
to the mountains, Eric?
-Yes.

You can talk to her.
She's in the house.

What's your theory
on all this?

You've been
at Darcy's a long time,
must know everyone.

Just about.
I don't know.

There's that bloke, Bassett,
meant to be patrolling the
place when Dolan got killed.

Seen the place he lives in?
His car? (CHUCKLES)

-On a patrolman's wages.
-Darcy's own enquiry
cleared him.

-Seemed pretty ordinary...
-Well, it's an act.

He's too ordinary.
Tries too hard.

(LOUD MUSIC PLAYING)

Mr. Henderson?

(SHOUTING) Mr. Henderson?
Mr. Henderson?

Ah. Hello, Sammy.

Sit down.

You met my mother.
Mum, Detective Sergeant Rose.

-(MUSIC STOPS)
-Good afternoon, missus.

Solved a lot of
baffling cases lately, Sammy?

Working on one at Darcy's.

Might be worth keeping
an eye on a Mr. Leo Bassett.

Kathmandu Towers.

Bassett? What's wrong?
Police given up
watching people?

(CHUCKLES)

Department works on a
shoestring, costs a lot
to watch a guy full-time.

All right, Sammy.
What'll you do for us?

Darcy's is now
a client of mine.

You help me nail
whoever is planning to
take the counting house,

I'll close the file on
the armored van hold-up.

I've never liked guns.
I wouldn't come here
if it wasn't compulsory.

Well, why join a security
company then?

Well, I like driving.
I'm gonna get transferred
to the armored vans.

-Here, let me show you.
-You want?

(GUNSHOTS)

MAN: Righto,
that's it for you blokes,
Union meeting now.

If anyone's coming at you,
empty your gun in them.

You can't rely on one or two
stopping them these days.

-Why is that?
-Well, most of the crims are
on drugs, stimulates them.

They'll just get up again,
if you don't hit them
right in the heart.

Don't worry about it, son.

-You, uh, staying
for the meeting?
-Yeah.

-Dick Martin.
-Leo Bassett.

-Yeah, I know,
the night, um...
-Dolan got killed.

Yeah. Bad news.

Remember,
anyone asks a curly one,
check if they're financial.

If they're not,
question's out of order.

-Righto.
Let's get on with it. Come on.
-Give us a song then.

Come on. Come on.
This is serious.
Come up here, Danny.

Give us your wrist, son.

Now you know
the management reckons
that chaining us to the catch

is going to be an effective
deterrent against hold-ups.

(ALL MUTTERING)

Crap!

MAN 1: Right.
MAN 2: Rubbish.

I believe it'll be like
tying a calf up alongside
a river full of crocodiles.

We'll have a frigging
ball and chain around
our feet next.

Yeah. Correct.
It's a matter of principle.

A chain,
is an infringement
of personal liberty.

MAN 3: We're not
bloody convicts.

-You ought to be, mate.
-(ALL LAUGHING)

MAN 3: Ahh, get stuffed!

I tell you then,
that we're unanimous,

in telling the management
they can shove their chains.

(ALL AGREEING)

MARTIN: No!

-Martin. Richard Martin.
-He's okay. Financial.

Yeah, fine.

(CHUCKLES)
So, we have one
dissenting voice.

-(ALL CHUCKLING)
-That's right.

Listen, if we're chained
to the money,

it'll make it impossible
for anyone to steal it.

They wouldn't even try.

And if Darcy's
is robbed again,
they'll never get insurance.

And all of us poor bastards
will be out of work.

(ALL MUTTERING)

Perhaps, you didn't know,
Mr. Martin, that
this idea was tried in Italy.

They manacled two guards
to a cash box.

Mowed them down
with a machine gun,
sawed their bloody arms off

and took the cashbox,
with their arms still
dangling by the wrists.

Bullshit!

They're chained up,
Mr. Martin.

-You'll be like a lamb being
led to the slaughter.
-(ALL AGREEING)

A big leg of lamb.

(ALL LAUGHING)

(INDISTINCT SHOUTING)

Come on, son.

Righto, righto.
Calm down. Calm down.
Meetings over.

Mark down unanimous decision,
no handcuffs.

-Is it true
what happened in Italy.
-Oh, fucked if I know.

-Feeling better?
-Yeah.

Tell me something
that's been worrying me.

If someone put
a gun on your back,
what would you do?

I get my hands up real fast.

You just wouldn't
swing around with a stiff arm
and knock it aside?

Not me, Leo. (CHUCKLES)

That's real hairy stuff.

-Who told you that?
-Eric Jackson.

-Oh, that senior
supervisor bloke.
-Yup.

-What else did he tell you?
-Oh, nothing in particular.

-He just seemed to
want to provoke me.
-Yeah?

(KEYS JINGLING)

(KEYS JINGLING)

(KEYS JINGLING)

Get your hands up, mister.

(GRUNTS)

Come on.

-All right.
Where's the body?
-What body?

The Darcy supervisor
you clobbered.

Bloke called Eric Jackson.
What you do to him?

Do to him? Don't put
that act on with me.
I am him.

Come on. Come on.
Look at all this, eh?

You're just a bloody burglar.

What Darcy's man would
have all that stuff?

Look at the photograph,
you half-wit.

Well.

There is a passing
resemblance.

But then again,
I'm always being told

that I'm a dead ringer
for Clint Eastwood.

Patrol area C4 to C3.
Come in.

-C4 to C3. Come in.
-C3.

Oh, Leo, would you
recognize a senior supervisor
named Eric Jackson.

Yes. Why?

MARTIN: Come on.

Come on.

Come on. Come on.
Face the bloody wire.

I'm under orders from
Darcy Security to run
a field check on you,

-Mr. Tricky Dickey Martin.
-A field check?

As I remember, senior
supervisors are meant
to field check patrolmen

by accompanying them
from their depot, right?

This is the joker
that claims to be
Eric Jackson.

But he's got a whole
mess of bloody
burglar tools with him.

He even forced the gate.
Take a look at this.

More like an ass,
than a face, isn't it?

Dick, it is senior supervisor,
Eric Jackson.

-No. Really?
-Now take off these handcuffs.

In future, don't go
sneaking up on people, huh?

You're liable to get hurt.
Come on, Leo.

(KNOCKING LOUDLY)

-Eric!
-Great job that was.

-Who told Martin I was coming?
-Just hold it.
What do you mean?

It was just to field test him,
that's all, you were
the best man for the job.

Who asked?
Darcy? Conway?

-Conway?
-That's it then.

-He's an old mate of Martin's!
-Now, hang on, Eric.

Just tell me what happened.

-(SIGHS) I followed him
into a container yard.
-How'd you get in?

-Had a kit. Hmm.
-Burglars' kit?

-Oh, Christ, man. You know...
-You asked me to check
him out, David.

What do you expect me to do?
Walk in there
strumming a guitar?

-Did Martin see the stuff?
-Yes, he was waiting for me.

Seemed to know what
I was going to do.

Smashed me over
the head with a pistol.

Darcy will read
about it in the report.
There's nothing I can do.

-Oh, that's real gratitude.
-I'm sorry.

I try to pin down the bloke
that did over poor old Dolan,
and I get lumbered.

-Dolan? You think
Martin was in on it?
-Of course.

Got kicked out of the
police force, didn't he?

Probably all of them in it.

Martin, Conway and Bassett.

Conway?
That's impossible.
He's a branch manager.

You told me yourself
you thought he was
paying some sort of graft

to that copper that was
always hanging around.

-It could be hush money.
-(CLOCK CHIMES)

Hmm.

And Bassett.
Now, there's a strange one.

Yeah, he turned up at
the container yard tonight.

Did he?

I'll tell you what I'll do.
I'll keep an eye on Conway.
You get into Bassett's place.

Have a good look around,
see what you can find.

Plant a microphone.

All right.

What about Martin's report?

I'll think of something.

But I'll try and get
Darcy to put you in
an office job for a while.

Office job?

What about putting me
in the counting house?

Sure as hell you need
a better roster clerk
than old Jameson.

All right.
I'll see what I can do.

-I'd better be going.
-No. Just...

Stay for a while, Eric.

Have another drink.

See you, David.

(DOOR CLOSES)

-(STARTS ENGINE)
-(TIRES SQUEALING)

-(PHONE RINGING)
-Yeah?

Fairy bloke went out and a
boxer-looking type turned up.

-Seen him before.
-Ernest.

I think he's going up
to the fairy's place.

Okay. Try and keep him
talking if he comes out.

Bassett's.

(KNOCKING)

Right, 4th floor, room 48.

-Want me to come with you?
-No.

All right. No worries.

(ELEVATOR STOPS)

-MAN: Door's locked.
-Ah, if anyone was here,
they'd be gone by now.

Bugger! (GROANS)

(SCREAMS)

-Divorce cases, eh?
-That's right.

Ah, I can always tell.
Meet a lot of
bad people in my job.

BASSETT: I don't like it,
you shouldn't have
called me at the office.

SEAGERS: Yeah,
but if I hadn't called you...

Oh. Must be some money
in this private
detective business.

-Security.
-Security,
whatever you call it.

-In a hurry to go
to the loo, were you?
-Eh?

Shit.

-What are you looking for?
-Nothing.

Looking awfully hard
for nothing.

You know,
somebody gets killed
at the factory,

and then your flat
gets all smashed up.

And you say this
security work is boring.

Mostly it is, Mindel.

Do you think I look like
Faye Dunaway?

Some of the girls
at work think I do.

So having your flat
broken into is all just
part of the job, eh?

No, it depends.

-What's it depend on?
-What?

-Having your flat broken into?
-Well, it depends on
what you're doing.

Do you think
I have a good figure, Leo?

Sure.

-Are you doing
something awful?
-No.

Why did somebody
break into your place?

You've got a secret,
haven't you? What is it?

Look, I haven't got a secret.

Well, maybe it's
a secret of Darcy's.

Well, what is it?
Go on, I love secrets.

Well, I now work
for an insurance company.

Oh, that's nothing.
So does my brother.

Do you know he sold more
insurance last year than
anybody else in the state?

-Yeah but this is different.
-SEAGERS: Why?

BASSETT: Well, I get put
into places like Darcy's
to check on people.

You played right
into his hands, Eric.

SEAGERS:
You're an undercover man.

BASSETT: Oh, come on Mindel.
That's a bit off.

SEAGERS: Oh, Leo.
This is so exciting.

It's just like James Bond.

They've gone into the bedroom.
Any mic in there, Eric?

You should've put it in there.
Not in the living room.

You'll have to use
your imagination, Ernest.

And in future, ignore
people like Mr. Bassett.

Keep a low profile,
and you can
get away with murder.

But what do you actually do.

Are you looking
for someone in particular
in this Darcy place?

Darcy's. (CLEARS THROAT)

-No, this apartment, the car,
and me, are all just bait.
-Bait.

Well, no one believes
I'm for real.

So, if someone's got
something to hide, they just
come sniffing around.

(LAUGHS) You mean
you investigate by doing
absolutely nothing.

Mindel,
you are an inquisitive girl.

-I am not, I'm just very,
very friendly, that's all.
-Inquisitive.

-Mmm.
-(GIGGLING)

(DOG WHINING)

-Morning, Mrs. Jackson.
We're from Darcy's.
-Eric's not here.

-Someone phoned.
He's away on special duty.
-Yes. I know.

He left some stuff here,
asked us to drop over
for it.

Gave us this key,
stuff's in there.

Oh, that's the garage key.
He doesn't allow
anybody in there.

Oh, he's a good
security man, Mrs. Jackson,
don't you worry about it.

Very ingenious, Eric.

That replica van is
evidently a real work of art.

Do you know what, Eric?
We found almost $40,000
under the floorboards.

That must have been
to finance its completion.
Right?

No.

I've got a little
proposal, Eric.

You cut me in
for a modest percentage,

and I'll let the whole plan
go ahead and give you
some back up.

How about that, Eric?

(GRUNTS AND COUGHS)

Get up, you idiot.
He hardly touched you.

(SCREAMS)

ERNEST: Kick him.

(BOTH GRUNTING)

ERNEST: Catch him,
you poofters!

THUG: Take his legs!

Well, Eric,
back to my proposal.

The plan goes ahead
with my help and I take
a modest percentage.

-What percentage?
-Oh...

Sixty-six and two-thirds.

Not modest enough.

I do the work.
I plan the job.

And yet, some would say,
I have the upper hand.

All right.
You can keep 40%, Eric.
I'm being very generous.

*

Bring in the nail clippers.

(MUFFLED GRUNTS)

(MUFFLED SCREAMS)

I genuinely find these methods
distasteful these days, Eric.

I'm a businessman,
a collector, not a hoodlum.

-Isn't that right, Ernest?
-That's right, Mr. Henderson.

Now, we can move along
your foot toe by toe,

and I wouldn't like that,
you wouldn't like it either,
or we could do a deal.

Now what do you say, Eric?

All right.
Cut it, partner.

Not a partner, Eric,
I don't enter into
partnerships.

An employee.

Do something about that blood,
Ernest, it'll run all over
the carpet in a minute.

SAINSBURY:
I still don't trust him.

-He's too smart.
-He doesn't trust us either.

But I think he realizes
he needs us.

Not as much as we need him.

We should've stuck
to what we know.
We're no good at business.

HENDERSON:
Defeatist talk, Ernest.

We were beaten
when those import
restrictions were lifted.

-After this, we'll re-equip
and be able to compete with...
-(ERIC COUGHING)

Hello, Eric.

How did my little
idea go over?

Like a Chinese brick balloon.

This is an aggressive
young man, Eric.

He speaks in
a very cheeky way,
it's oddly familiar.

My brother, Brian. Ed.
This is Jack Henderson.

I'd rather you all call
me Mr. Henderson.
I think a little respect...

Respect? You just
tortured poor bloody Eric.

I think it makes for
greater efficiency, don't you?

Eric's just told me
all about your little plan,
Brian.

Brilliant!
That's the only word for it.
But...

There are flaws.

One.

You're going to have to
finish building that van
somewhere safer.

Leave that to me.

Two.

You'll need more help inside
the counting house itself.

With three of my men along,
you can halve the time
it takes to load and get out.

All right.

But no one except,
Brian, Ed and myself

need know the details
of the operation.

Agreed.

You're in charge...

...until you arrive at
a tire place I own
10 minutes from Darcy's,

Ernest here takes over then.

We'll have you
out of the country
on separate flights,

faster than anyone
could credit.

-Out of the country?
-Were you thinking of
booking into the Hilton?

Throwing a big party,
inviting a few girls around.

And what about the money?

That will be converted by us
into appropriate currencies,
and forwarded to you.

Oh, I see.

We steal 20 million bucks,
give it to you,

put on a false mustache
and piss off to,
I don't know where.

-Trust is the name
of the game, Brian.
-Trust?

If one of your mob
said good morning to me,

I'd put on my pajamas
and go to bed.
That's how much I trust you.

You steal
20 million dollars, son,

and every police force
in the world will be
looking for you.

With my organization,
you'll be able to keep
the money.

-Half of it.
-40 percent.

All right, whatever.

For a couple of
airline tickets and
a bit of false hair?

It's not much, I reckon,
for 12 million bucks.

-It's what you do
for your share
-Tell him, Eric.

Without my help
you'll be caught
within a week.

(SIGHS)

MAN: Mind the water.

(RADIO PLAYING INDISTINCTLY)

Eric!

How's the gout, Eric?

-Oh, it's clearing up, thanks.
-CONWAY: Get all that
muck off the bonnet.

That should teach you
to lay off the pops, mate.
(CHUCKLES)

-Well, uh, look after
yourself, all right?
-Yeah, see you.

How'd you get onside
with that Welsh poofter?

Listen to his boring
stories about his marriage
breaking up.

Poor bastard got blackmailed
by some little queen.

Got chucked out
of the police force,

that's why he came out here.

We still go on Wednesday?

Yeah. Wednesday.

All right, Brian,
it's all over, mate.

We know all about you.

(BOTH LAUGHING)

-All right, what's the joke?
-Lie detector, mate.

Darcy's got some yank in town
going through the whole staff.

You're on Tuesday, same as me.
Graham's already done it.

GRAHAM: Yeah, got all sorts
of funny questions.

They ask you if
you toss yourself off,
and when you say "no",

-the bloody needle goes
right through the ceiling.
-(BOTH LAUGHING)

There's one they keep asking
over and over though.

"You killed Dolan?",
"You know who killed Dolan?",
that sort of thing.

Yeah?

HENDERSON: All okay.
DINO: Sure.

HENDERSON:
Just keep an eye on them,
in the counting house.

You should reach the
tire depot by 1:30 p.m.

Okay.

Here's Ernest.

They must have complete
confidence in us,
my reputation is built on it.

Good morning, this is Dino,

one of my men,
he'll be helping you
in the counting house.

Not very big is he,
wouldn't look too
convincing in a uniform.

Darcy's don't hire
too many dwarfs.

I can vouch
for Dino's expertise.

A lot of my jobs would never
have been concluded
successfully without him.

Everything needed for your
exit for the country is here,
care to check it?

Passports,
traveler's checks, visas.

One for France,
one for Brazil,
and one for Korea.

Can't imagine why anyone
would want to go to Korea?

All this will be useless
if we don't stop that
lie-detector bloke.

Maybe Dino should
pay him a visit.

-Dino?
-Not necessary.

I thought he was auditioning
for Snow White this afternoon.

I have a friend who's
a fearless crusader
for the underdog.

Detective Sergeant Sammy Rose,
please.

Is your middle name Woodrow?

Yes.

Do you live in Sydney?

Yes.

Do you know
who killed John Dolan?

-No.
-Can you keep still please?

Did you have
something to eat today?

-Yes.
-Did you ever smoke?

Yes.

-Were you present when
John Dolan was killed?
-No.

-Do you wear glasses?
-No.

-Did you kill John Dolan?
-Mr. Harris?

-Yes.
-We're from the
licensing branch.

Are you aware, you need
an investigator's license...

Look, I was advised
that one of those
wasn't required.

-I'm a qualified...
-We've had complaints
concerning your activities.

G'day, Sid.

How you going?

Still carrying out
the odd bit of dirty
work for Sammy Rose?

(MAN COUGHING)

All we need is for
one of these to fall off
and we're really in the shit.

Ed, you right?

Now listen.

The money
is to be stacked here.

Right near the loading bay.

There'll be four clerks,
maybe five.

Ed will get them into
the union meeting by 1300 hrs.

-Yeah, then I'll find an
excuse to leave at 1310.
-Right.

-Now when you return
to the counting house...
-ED: Mmm.

-We don't allow anyone
through the security lock.
-Right.

I'll take care
of the Chief Clerk.

Brian, your truck,
our truck, will be the
second last one in.

It's due at 1305.

It's got to be accurate
within two minutes.

BRIAN: What about
the gate guard?

Oh, don't worry, they only
check roster numbers,
not number plates.

And I'll be making up
the roster.

You'll just be listed
as Van 26.

They'll be arriving
all morning,

no one is going to notice
an addition, providing
it's not on the end.

Smart, real smart.

Yeah, but you're still gonna
need number plates.

Got a cast from one
of the other trucks.

Any you reckon this thing
will fool them in daylight?

-Of course.
-It'd better.

Don't run into anything.

It'll break up
like a matchbox.

And sit there, for Christ's
sake, when the last van
comes in.

Just let them park behind you.

Who's in the last van?

Dick Martin and Leo Bassett.

Hmm.

(ED COUGHING)

I can't believe you don't
reckon Jack Henderson isn't
going to double cross us.

He might.

I'll grab that little dwarf,
Dino,

when we get to the tire place
and blow his head off
if they start anything.

Look, Brian,
if you're thinking about
meeting that sort of yours

sometime after
all this is over, forget it.

Cops will be watching her
until she's a granny.

I might not be
around for a while.

But I want you
to sit tight, all right?
I'll be in touch.

No teenagers
hanging around you,
are they, Ed?

(CHUCKLES) No way.

Had a little sheila
up in Korea, though.

Soft and warm she was,
just like a mouse's ear.

(COUGHING)

Listen, what about Dawn?

I mean, are you just
going to go off and
leave her like that?

ERIC: Her? Sure.

She'll be free to marry
that mongrel dog of hers.

G'day, fellas, you happy?

-Yeah, all right?
-Hi, Rob.

MAN: Simmons.

Jenkins and Walsh.

Truck 25, due 12:55.

Martin, Bassett.

Cross the number,
van keys, pistols.

Van 27, 1310 hours.

-That's 10 past one?
-1310.

All okay, Mr. Jackson?

Yeah. How about you?

Lot of runs, eh?

Yeah. When this
business started,

poor old Mr. Darcy had
two men on motorbikes.

Used to be able to organize
the drives themselves.

-There's been
a lot of changes.
-I'll say.

Used to have a Wednesday
turnover of about, uh...
Oh, 300,000 dollars.

-Today in here I'd say that...
-20 million.

That's right.

About 20 million.

DISPATCHER: Security check.

What's up?

-Nothing.
-(BELL RINGING)

You know, it's funny how
we both got that transfer
from the night patrols.

BASSETT: Well,
I've had my application
in for a long time.

(GATE WHIRRING)

(CHATTING INAUDIBLY)

(HORN HONKING)

(INTERCOM BUZZES)

Speak to me.

WOMAN: Mr. Rose is on his
way in to see you, Mr. Conway.

How're they
treating you, Robbie.

Chugging along
on one cylinder.

Not enough here
to cover expenses.

Look, you're standing
on us pretty heavy, Sammy,

but you're not
coming up with very much.

No?

Here's a name for you.

Leo Bassett.

(INDISTINCT RADIO CHATTER)

(CHATTING INDISTINCTLY)

-Sorry to keep you waiting.
-Lionel.

-Yeah?
-Sammy reckons we ought to

keep an eye on
young Leo Bassett.

Leo Bassett is an
insurance investigator
for Legal and United.

-Oh, Mindel.
-That bloke wouldn't know his
ass from a hole in the ground.

-I thought you said we had
to keep an eye on him.
-Robbie.

Robbie, you remember
Mindel Seagers?

She used to be a secretary
here a few years ago.

Yeah, best typist we ever had.

She's been doing
some field work for me.

She's the one who discovered
all about Mr. Leo Bassett.

-Oh, Jesus, Lionel,
you could've told me.
-I'll bet she did.

-After all, I'm only bloody
branch manager.
-Forget about it, darling.

Your trouble is,
you don't trust anybody

not even people
who work for you.

I work on the "need to know".

Okay, don't forget,
union meeting at 1300.

Roger 20.

-Okay.
-We need some more space.

Let's clean this shelf up,
I'll give you a hand.

-What about
the lie-detector bloke?
-Not my doing Lionel.

Jesus, look, monitors are out.

Bloody video gear is useless.
I'll ring them and see if
I can get someone over.

I think I better alert
Mr. Darcy.

No, no. I'll put a
rocket up these blokes.

(PHONE RINGING)

Eric Jackson here,
Senior Supervisor at Darcy's.

Look, sport, your expensive
video gear is on the blink.

Could you send someone
over straight away?

It's our big day.

Okay, so far.

They're coming.

Did you find out how
those girls were getting the
lipsticks out of the factory?

-Of course I did.
-How?

I'm not going to tell you.

What's wrong with your video?

Oh, I don't know,
the bloody things
are always going out.

-Hang on.
-(BUZZES)

-Yes, Mr. Darcy.
-The video is out.

A technical fault or
something, Mr. Darcy,
they're coming over to fix it.

Is it all right to take this
back to the union meeting?

-It's not all right...
-Look it's not that important

-until the rest of
the money comes.
-Let him go, Barry.

There's only a couple
of vans to come,
you're all set up to count.

-Okay.
-Righto.

DH2 - DH27...

Van 27.

Your ETA, over.

Should be at the
counting house, at about 1310.

-Righto, mate.
-(BUZZES)

All right, come on,
it's really important.

There's no way the force
would ever take you back?

-Not a chance.
-Why is that?

Ah, it's a long story.

-Yeah.
-Oh, I'm not complaining, Leo.

(INDISTINCT RADIO CHATTER)

ROSE: Yeah, well,
the talented Mr. Bassett,
hasn't come up with anything.

SEAGERS: He's got
suspicions about someone.

He hasn't proven anything yet.

Yeah? Who?

-Eric Jackson.
-(SCOFFS)

-Jackson?
-Jackson?

I checked him out,
he's caught more suspects
than Bassett's had fuck...

Breakfasts.

Well, he's a bit too
flamboyant for my taste.

Never liked the man,
but he does his job well.

Knows as much about
the business as I do.

You've always said
you were the one person
who could rob the place.

That's true.

These are the
lie-detector reports.

He hasn't done the test.

Well, when's he
scheduled to do it?

Yesterday afternoon.

We know why that fell through.

-Look, I told you,
you need a license for that.

-David.
-Don't blame me.

David!

Have Mr. Griffiths
come to my office
straight away.

-Where's Jackson now?
-Oh, he's off sick.

Something to do with his feet.
David will know.

(INTERCOM BUZZES)

(MUTTERS)

-Yeah.
-Conway.

Right.

(BUZZES IN)

Where's Ray
and everybody else?

At the union meeting.

Oh, yeah.

Of all bloody days,
they have to have
a union meeting.

-Hi, Barry.
-G'day, Rob.

-Everything all right?
-Yeah, she's right.

Good.

Well, I don't like it,
some of them should be here.

We've got 20 million dollars
coming in here today.

I think I'll talk
to Darcy about it.

-Well, something's
worrying me too, Robbie.
-What?

Well, you know
I don't like to...

Well, you ought to be a bit
flexible about regulations
around here.

But half the blokes
are stacking their beer
in the vault.

-Beer?
-You can't move half
the time, the beer cans.

(CONWAY GRUNTS)

The issue today
is lie-detectors.

Another infringement
of our personal liberty!

-(ALL AGREEING)
-Yeah!

(INDISTINCT RADIO CHATTER)

Your ETA, over.

ETA schedule, plus two.

BRIAN: Roger.

Who's voice was that?

Brian Jackson's, I think.

I didn't see him
at assignments this morning.

Oh, there were about
100 blokes there,
he must've been there.

Yeah.

(INDISTINCT RADIO CHATTER)

-New bloke?
-Yeah, that's right.

You're all right, off you go.

Okay, the hatch.

You can go to
the union meeting, Barry.

Second to last one in,
I'll be right.

You're a bit short on
staff here, I think,
Mr. Jackson.

-You see, security
regulations demand...
-Oh, come on.

Three guys had just arrived
there'll be another three
in a few minutes.

(COCKS GUN)

All right, if you say so.

No.

I better stay
till the last one.

(GRUNTS)

All right, come on, load up!
Hurry up!

Get all those cages!
Come on! Move it!

Here!

Come on you mug, get over.

Come on! Get all
that stuff out of here!
Come on, move!

-Move it!
-This one!

Shit!

Jesus Christ!
Pick that stuff up!

Come on! Move! Move!

Come on, let's go!

Get him in!

For Christ's sake, Eric,
forget Martin and Bassett.

We can load up
and be out of here
in three minutes.

Delay them.

They got two million dollars
in that van!

Two million bucks,
what's it matter?

You've been around
money too long.

You're out of your head!

Van 27 to base.

Twenty-seven.

MARTIN: We'll be arriving
in the counting house
in about a minute.

Get on with it.

-Get out of sight!
-Clear out, you blokes.

-The last van!
-Take these!

-Take this one, quick!
-Come on, move!

Get inside! Get inside!

I'm just going to round
up a couple of late arrivals.

Hold the fort a tick,
will you?

-I'm not gonna
knock off Darcy's.
-(ALL LAUGHING)

I wouldn't know how.

But I'd like to know
for sure that some
other blokes aren't...

-(MEN AGREEING)
-MAN: Yeah, too right.

-Okay?
-Yeah, okay.

-Put yourself in the situation
will you, half the staff...
-Come in.

David, how well
do you know Eric Jackson?

Jackson?

-I suppose...
-Well, I mean,
are you friends?

-I supposed you could say...
-What's your opinion of him,
professionally?

He's a first-class
security man.

He's been of invaluable
assistance
since I've been here.

Well, there you are.
What did I say?

All right, when will he
be back, he has to do
these detector tests.

Back? Mr. Darcy,
he is back,
he started yesterday.

(BEEPING)

-Oh, fuck!
-Shit!

(BUZZING)

Don't let anyone in!
Tell then we're
unloading the money!

Yes.

Oh, Lionel Darcy here,
let me in, will you?

I'm sorry Mr. Darcy
but regulations state

that no one is allowed in
when a van's being unloaded.

Is that right? Sounds okay.

Yeah, probably, he knows
the rule book by heart.

I don't know, look,
I'll go up and the round
into the loading dock.

No, no, no. It'll take you
more than four minutes,
we'll hang on here.

-Last run!
-That's right.

See you at the union meeting!

That bugger should've
gone by now.

Might have engine trouble.

-Yeah.
-Not worth a bloody bumper.

Okay, okay.
That's it, that's it.

G'day.

All right, now come on
you jokers.

Damn union meeting's
been going for
quarter of an hour.

Come on! Come on!
You too! What about
the union meeting?

All right, all right,
what about this?

Listen, your bloody union
is more important than this.

-I'll park it for you.
-ED: Get a move on.

What'd you say?

I said, I'll park it for you.

Why aren't you
at the union meeting?

Seemed pretty keen
at the last one.

-BASSETT: You coming?
-(ED COUGHING)

I'll catch up with you.

(DOOR BUZZING)

ERIC: That's right.

Come on, come on.

We better get to this damn
union meeting, you never
know what sort of regulations

-(GRUNTS)
-Jesus, what the bloody...

Hey! Hey!

(GUN FIRES)

Inside, quick.

Come on, over here!

Eric! Eric, there
behind you!
(SCREAMS)

(GROANING)

(GRUNTS)

(GRUNTS)

Come here, you...

Finish the loading!
The loading!

Over there, man!

-(SHOUTS)
-(GRUNTS)

Let's go!

Come on, Brian! Get up!

Hey! Get the exit gate!

I don't know how
to work the fucking thing!

You take the wheel!
Come on! Move! Move!

Get that money out of here!
Move that crate!

I'll hold it, just...

Come on, come on! Move!

Come on,
take the fucking crate!

-(INTERCOM BUZZING)
-(GROANING)

Get Martin!

-(GUN FIRES)
-(SCREAMING)

Get over there!
Get Martin! Come on!

Eric!

Come on, fuck you!
Kill him!

(GASPS)

Get the roller door!
Get the bloody roller door!

Ed! Ed! Jesus Christ.

(INTERCOM BUZZING)

(LOCK BUZZING)

(SCREAMING)

Brian?

Brian!

Ahh!

Fuck!

(GRUNTING)

(GASPING)

(CLICKS)

-(GUNSHOTS)
-(SHOUTS)

Captain Rose at
Darcy's counting house
wants to know ETA...

Dumb.

Get over this and they'll
stick a medal on you

and put you back on
award wages.

Any idea who they were?

Never seen any of them before,
except for your blokes.

Dickey Martin did such
a good job none of them
will be talking either.

Okay, what's your story?
Why was your gun unloaded?

I've never liked guns,
Mr. Rose.

I always take the shells out
and put them in my pocket.

Christ!

Suppose your lot put you in
here when they heard about
the anonymous note.

That's close.

-I sent the note.
-What?

You what?

You knew about all this?

It was just bait.
My company always
assumes that

there's someone
that'll try and knock over
a place like this.

The note was just sort of
to flush them out.

You might've at least
had the courtesy
to have told me.

You were one of
the chief suspects, Mr. Darcy.

Come on, mate, sit down.

(SIRENS WAILING)

Thanks mate.

My. Darcy!

Looks like
the time lock was set.

If Mr. Conway is in there,
he's in there for 18 hours.

Serves him right,
he might lose a bit of weight.

(TELEPHONE RINGING)

-Yes.
-I thought we had a deal,
Mr. Henderson.

There's been a lot of trouble
up here at Darcy's.

What's that got to do
with me, Sammy?

Some of them were
friends of yours.

But no one is
going to talk anymore.

It seems some guy
didn't trust you too far.

Left a little note.

-Named a name.
-Where is it, Sammy?

Oh, I've got it.

For safekeeping.

Listen Sammy,
I don't always pick winners

but I hate to back losers.

-Now I have a horse
that's going to win...
-Ten. Ten.

Twenty grand for you
this afternoon.

I know I'm sensitive,
but I don't like
people to gossip.

Jack,

no one will breathe a word.